How To Piss Off A Turf Wife

Hello there readers, on this week's episode of Till Turf Do Us Part, I want to discuss COMMON SENSE and how a lot of people obviously missed that day in elementary school. 

I don't know if you know this, BUT during your round of Golf, your decisions, or lack thereof affect EVERY Turf Wife in the World! I don't know if you actually know this, but please trust me when I say, ok write this. 

Did you know that when it rains and you get mad because it's Cart Path only, there is a real-life Agronomonic reason for this? Although maybe you "think" it's just a puddle but imagine 300 plus people a day having your same thought process and that puddle now becomes The Creature of the Blue Lagoon..BE A RULE FOLLOWER I SWEAR YOU WILL HAVE A MUCH BETTER EXPERIENCE!! 

How does this affect a Turf Wife'? Well, it's funny you should ask, because it actually takes more time to fix, which, makes a grass grower come home in a pissy mood when he FINALLY graces us 4 hrs later than originally told he would be home. 

The back 9 is closed for blah bla blah reasons. If any 9 or 18 or just a hole is closed, RESPECT THE REASON, BECAUSE THERE ACTUALLY IS*A REASON! It could be any number of things, but it doesn't mean you can sweet talk your way through the pro shop to get on said closed hole, because this is your last day on earth and Jesus won't let you into the gates unless you have touched bla bla hole. 

Turf wife effect? Well honestly this has no impact on my life unless you actually do this, then I get to hear about how ridiculous and entitled human beings are. 

If you are those weird people who are actually functioning as sane human beings with a tee time BEFORE 8 am, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE use that thing that is on top of your neck ( umm your skull but inside that skull is your noggin). You see a maintenance crew member out doing whatever it is they are "supposed " to be doing for course setup. STAY OUT OF THEIR WAY!!! Would you dare go into a restaurant and demand a 6-course meal when they aren't even finished prepping yet??? I think not! Here's an example and something that was completely new to me when I was on my grass grower's course the other day.. His spray tech was out spraying magical grass juice ( I can't pronounce half of the products used so Magic Grass Juice just covers All the things) and carts were actually trailing behind! Umm ok? If your round now results in weird skin boils, don't come complaining to me! ( no your skin isn't going to boil over with weird little aliens emerging ) but you know what WILL happen? You're going to track that Magic Grass Juice ALL OVER THE COURSE. Greens, Tees, fairways, etc. I'm not talking just about your cart, I'm talking about your shoes, your cart's wheels, ANYTHING THAT HAS TOUCHED SAID MAGIC GRASS JUICE! 

Turf Wife Effect? Your lack of patience and stalking the spray tech has the potential to RUIN ok not ruin BUT cause product burn on my grass grower's precious blades of grass, which in turn creatures MORE work, phone calls from owners, Gms, etc calling at ALL hours questioning WHY.. that, in turn, takes away from MY TIME, which is VERY few and far between with MY grass grower when he is OFF DUTY! 

If your Tee Time is at 8:27 AM... YOU TEE OFF AT 8:27 AM. Not earlier because you are bff with a retired cart boy, not later because you saw a starship trooper and had to get his autograph BE ON TIME! Even being 5 mins late screws up the ENTIRE tee sheet for the day and puts Maintenance behind! 

Turf Wife effect? Being late or early screws everything and everyone up and things have the chance to be missed resulting in MORE WORK and if I had plans with my grass grower for let's say lunch, he'd probably have to cancel because his day is now in the poo hole. 

You have a bad shot and took a chunk out of a green. I can't believe the people who actually think this is ok.. "it's just grass and will grow back" IT'S NOT JUST GRASS AND IT WON'T GROW BACK! I mean it will BUT not overnight! It takes WEEKS..( yes you can plug or grab a nursery scrap, BUT IT STILL TAKES WEEKS TO GROW IN)

Turf Wife effect? I mean it's the equivalent of telling your kid that Santa died and Christmas is canceled because the elves are on strike. DO NOT TAKE CHUNKS, it's really that simple! RESPECT THE GRASS!! 

It's Aerifcation or Verti cut day!!! Let's just say Cultural Practices and cover it all! I'm sure as a member or an insider at your course it's communicated way in advance, maybe even told to you directly! PLEASE RESPECT THE PRACTICE! These things are done so YOU CAN PLAY and have the best possible playing surface your course's budget allows! Don't bitch or complain to EVERY employee, person you can find to listen to your sadness. This will not get you on the course faster nor give you extra points from the Superintendents. You are a paying customer who has to just deal with it and I PROMISE this is all for good reason! 

Turf Wife effect? Longer hours away from home. Or when they actually get home, they are absolutely useless and just shower, maybe mumble something to you and the kids, then they disappear into dreamland. I guess that's a good thing if they sleep talk, Hello Tik Tok Videos 😆

The bottom line is that regardless of where you are in your golfing journey, what you "think" you know about golf, I can guarantee you don't! I really really recommend getting to know your Superintendent. Ask them WHY.. instead of assuming and thinking. Ask them about their family! Grass Growers LOVE to explain the "science" of why rules and practices are put into place. Most importantly treat them and the course with respect! THEY ARE HERE FOR YOUR "HOBBY" and want nothing more than to give you the best experience you've ever had! And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REMEMBER EVERY ACTION YOU DO OR DONT DO EFFECTS a Turf Wife and lord knows we wives have enough to deal with on top of stupid decisions from people we don't even know! 

What Separates Great Golf Course Superintendents from the Rest

In the golf course industry, not all superintendents lead the same way. Some live and breathe turf management. Others wear the title like a pressed polo and hope 

no one looks too closely.

As a turf wife who has seen it all — the weather meltdowns, the 95-hour weeks, the irrigation emergencies at 2 a.m. — here’s what truly separates a real grass grower from the rest.

I’ve been in this industry long enough that I calculate time in turf years. It’s like dog years, but with more stress and less sleep. If you’re 50 in human years, you’re at least 80 in grass-growing years.

I may not grow the magical grass myself, but being married to someone who does basically makes me an honorary inductee into the Turf Grass Growing Hall of Fame.

Call me Ma’dam TurfWidow.

And after all these years, I’ve learned something:

Not everyone who holds the title of superintendent is actually a grass grower.

The Grass Grower With Dirt in Their Veins

The real ones?

They’re the first truck in the lot.

They know every irrigation head by memory. They can spot stress on a green from 100 yards away. They’ve been rained on, burned by fertilizer, and cussed out by a member before breakfast.

They don’t manage turf from a swivel chair. They manage it from the soil up.

Their crew respects them because they show up.

Because they lead from the front.

Because their hands get dirty too.

And here’s the truth no one says out loud:

You are only as good as your crew.

Lose their respect, and you lose way more than green speed.

The passionate grass grower doesn’t do this for applause. They do it because turf is in their bloodstream. Because even on the worst day, they care.

Grass before arse.

Yes. Still trademarking it.

When the Title Is Louder Than the Work

Then there’s the version that makes me tilt my head.

The “Title Superintendent.”

You know the type.

The polished shoes. The climate-controlled office. The golf apparel subscription box. The “I’ll handle it by text” leadership style.

They can quote a seminar from GCSAA but couldn’t tell you which head is stuck on #7 fairway.

Two-week vacations in July. A shiny cart. A property that quietly declines.

And here’s what really gets me:

This industry is not built for the indifferent.

Turf does not reward laziness. It does not hide neglect. It absolutely exposes ego.

When passion quietly leaves the building, the course shows it. The crew feels it. The culture rots from the inside out.

And no amount of embroidered logos fixes that.

This Industry Is Earned, Not Worn

Being a superintendent isn’t about the title.

It’s about stewardship.

It’s about knowing that if the crew loses faith in you, you’ve already lost the game.

It’s about understanding that the property doesn’t care about your LinkedIn bio. It cares whether you were out there when it mattered.

Because here’s what separates the great ones:

They would do this even if no one clapped. They would fight for their crew. They would bleed for that course.

And lately, I’ve loved seeing televised events finally acknowledge the hardworking grounds crews and superintendents.

 For years they were invisible. Now they’re getting their due.

And that recognition?

It belongs to the ones with dirt under their nails.

Not just the ones with dirt in their vocabulary.

If you’re in this industry and this makes you uncomfortable?

Good.

Maybe it’s time to ask yourself which category you fall into.

Because turf always tells the truth.

And it always wins.

What its really like being married to a Golf Course Superintendent

Tiger Woods didn't write this..

Being married to a golf course superintendent isn’t what most people think. From long hours and weather obsession to constant questions about Masters tickets, this is the unfiltered reality of being a turf wife.

So I thought I'd take a break from telling the world, about my Grass Grower's medical adventures and get back to what's important.. BEING A TURF WIDOW aka Grass Growing side chick. 

Remember there is ALWAYS a chick that comes first. That dirty, sometimes hairy little woman who will always come before anything and anyone in your life, no exceptions! Luckily for us as wives, we get to constantly compete with dirt, disease, weather, and Grass!! It doesn't matter if you have plans, a baby, or a birthday party, THE GRASS WILL ALWAYS COME FIRST! I always say Grass before Arse, maybe I need to trademark that phrase!! 

In the beginning of being a Turf Widow,( fore score and 150 years ago.. ) this used to annoy me to no end! Quite honestly I didn't understand the magnitude of the world I somehow blindfoldedly ( I have no idea if that is even a word, but we're going with it ) married into. I couldn't wrap my head around Grass! I mean Grass is everywhere, just throw some weird not safe for human consumption looking poisonous nerds on the ground and then water it in. Magic right? If it was only that simple.. 

I feel like I've been in this industry for so long now, that I have experienced every possible outcome, rather it be positive or negative, new or old. You name it, I've lived it! Maybe I should throw in the towel and become a Grass Grower myself..

Could you imagine the competitive talk in our house? "Well my greens are rolling at a 57 and my grassy mountains are covered in 3455 F Bermuda " or My spray tech has the rig collaborated to spray nematode infestations on the moon " or Look at my roots on my 1947 push-up greens compared to your 10 day old magical paspalum princess grass. I could go on and on! 

I've noticed over the years that as soon as I meet someone new, who has no earthly clue about what my husband does, these questions ALWAYS surface..

1. So your husband is a landscaper? No, Janet, he's not. He isn't a crew leader for Big Bobby's Grow & Blow lawn maintenance. 

2. Oh Wow! Do you guys know Tiger Woods? I mean listen, Lisa, if we knew TW do you really think I would actually tell you? Do you actually think you would be my dinner date at his house??? NO LISA WE DON'T KNOW HIM! 

3. A personal favorite of mine... Hey, I know we haven't talked in 32 years, but I see you talk about your husband and what he does, and I love golf!! Do you think he can get me Masters tickets or maybe a tee time at Augusta? Ummm... if you even have the balls to ask me this, YOU KNOW NOTHING about golf, and you sure as sheet need to take your pitted balls back to whatever yardsale Facebook site you bought them from...Jesus Christ himself can't even get on at the National...

4. So your husband is a "Golf Pro"? NO Sherry, my husband isn't a well-dressed instructor. My husband is the reason you get to even hire a golf pro, and complain to your Club Bartender about how too fast the greens are or how he is solely responsible for your worst round of golf ever because the superintendent has the pins too close to whatever body of water that pissed you off

5. Well I researched exactly what it is that your husband does, I can't wait for him to meet my husband, he loves to golf, do you think he could get a tee time or maybe even hook him up with a free round????!!!!???.... Umm.. just because I have actually let you in on what pays my bills, that doesn't mean YOU REAP ANY REWARD!! This also doesn't mean "if" you actually get to meet my husband ( you know the one who works 95 hours a week) that he will actually want to be cornered by your starstruck husband and talk about the Liv Tour, what it's like at the Masters, or IF WE KNOW TIGER WOODS! Please for the love of God, just stop talking!!! 

6. Yes I have been asked this before, "how can you be married to someone who is ruining the environment " Listen, Crunchy Christine, most, ALL courses nowadays are strictly monitored by the EPA and are Audubon Certified. Organic pesticides and fertility are used on a daily basis and nothing is running off to destroy your Crunchy campsite on an Indian burial ground!

7. Do you actually have a husband? Yes, Karen, I do.. how do you think I don't have a job outside of the home and my bills still get paid? I haven't secretly won the lottery and want to live a modest life in your HOA Groverened Hood. 

I could go on and on and on. One thing I hope whoever is reading this outside of the "industry" takes this away from my words is this.. 

We are just normal everyday people. We are wives, mothers, sisters, cousins grandmothers, etc. We are already pissed off at our husbands for never being home. We are exhausted from having to be mom and dad to our children. Our brains are fried because we are forced to learn about turfgrass and cultural practices just so we can understand what the heck our Grass Growers are talking about. We miss the wonderful circles of humans we used to have in the town that was promised to us, would be the last move! Our chef skills get ignored because there is ALWAYS an empty seat at the table and a leftover plate of food in the microwave because our grass grower promised he would be home early enough to try your new dinner recipe! We are pulled in 15 different directions trying to keep it all together and afloat. We hardly get "me" time or a family vacation. We constantly have to question every single person we meet, for fear of a fake friendship just because your hubs is who he is, and does what he does, praying this person will be different. We move around a lot! We have to constantly explain to our families why our husbands can't keep a job, when in reality moving on to the next course will either make or break their career. BEING A TURF WIFE IS NOT GLAMOROUS NOR FUN! We are often envious of your Banker 9-5 husbands or your ability to actually sit with your man, and his attention be solely on you, not his course or the weather or their irrigation systems.. . 

So the next time you get to actually meet one of us.. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE heed my words and just realize TURF WIVES need support and probably a hug too. We are just normal girls who met weird boys who liked to play with dirt and grow things in it. We love sharing some aspects of our lives, but don't really want to constantly answer 50 thousand questions about our husbands! And lastly NO WE DON'T KNOW TIGER WOODS!! 

If you’re married to a superintendent, assistant super, or fellow grass grower, tell me the most ridiculous question you’ve ever been asked!

The Worst Irrigation Blow Out Of ALL Time ..

The first couple of days in the hospital were a blur. Doctors in and out constantly. Tests, needle sticks and more tests!!!!! 

I still haven't told anyone what was going on. I mean we had no idea either so why get anyone in a panic?? The Doctors still were clueless as to why? For some strange reason ( PLEASE DONT GO ALL SAVAGE ON ME FOR EVEN THINKING THIS) my first thought was "O..MAUGH GAWD" CHEMICAL EXPOSURE from the YEARS and I say years because we know he's older than dirt 🤣...( imagine little fetus Patterson running in the cotton fields in a cloth diaper with MSU on it, with his dark dirty, ok it's now salt & pepper hair, glistening in the golden hour of Alabamia), but I quickly knocked that thought out of my mind. "If" and I say that with a BIG IF that was the case, grass growers would be dropping like flies!!! 

1 year before, this man moved us again to a foreign land called Atlanta ( if you know you know) He had the bright idea to once again put me through a move and a renovation, but this time it was different.. ( aren't ALL the times different???) This time it was an in-house aka I'm doing it all by myself this time 🙄.. but THIS time it was a miracle grass called Zoysia ( I'll let you guess the variety because that would mean Im promoting it and any promotion that comes from my mouth needs to be followed by little pieces of treasury paper or a check ) and he was going to be that guy to put this special magical grass on the ground .. Maybe this special grass did him in??? ( disclaimer the only kind of "special grass that can do you in, is the devils lettuce NOT A TURF GRASS) 

I'll never forget when it all started.. the uti..(s) the lack of energy, the incontinence ( which I only found out about later, as he was laying in a twin bed, hooked up to ALL the things, with tubes in ALL the places) I should have known something was up when he started refusing coffee, and food in general, the distended stomach... the 2am wake up of him down right hysterical because he was urinating straight blood.. 

I won't go into graffic detail.BUT 3 or 4 doctor visits,and an actual 3am road trip to the ER.( GOOD TIMES). Drink more water and oh here's some antibiotics that should knock this out.. wait do you wear boxers or briefs..

NOT 1 DOCTOR thought wait, this can't be normal for an otherwise BASICALLY HEALTHY MIDDLE AGE MAN .. and the best part, the guilt that I live with every day of my life, STILL.. I grew up in a Dialysis Clinic, (my grandfather started the process when I was 5) I was a Nuerophrology Nurse and I STILL DIDN'T CATCH ON TO ANY OF THIS!!!! As long as I have air in my lungs, I'll never forgive myself. I don't even think he knows this. Those 3 weeks watching my husband basically chained to a very uncomfortable bed, not leaving his side, not caring for anything on the outside, including myself, advocating for his care ( I know I was a nightmare to ALL the staff, but I brought in doughnuts and coffee( the GOOD KIND) every day to make up for my "twat-ness") I NEVER once let on to him, that on the inside I was having a nervous breakdown basically knowing my husband was going to die. How could I do this without him? How could I be the parent our daughter needed me to be? How! How! How! (I'm just letting you in on the crazy 24/7 that runs through my mind..ha! ) 

After much resistance from me, he finally put it out on social media what was going on. Great, I've told no one and now all of the sudden I have to explain to everyone and their second cousins uncle's sister's brother what was going on. Exactly what I wanted to be doing,while my world was exploding. It's really funny when something like this happens.. the people whom you would expect to be by your side for support, are now suddenly ghosts ( just know that I certainly MIGHT forgive, but Ill NEVER forget your actions..turf world, blood or platonic etc) BUT the people, family , friends, and so on.. whom out of left field that just show up in a hospital room, or text you continuously expecting no response regardless of knowing you or him , completely touched my soul, and I/we will forever be eternally greatful for your hearts, your words and actions. 

Then there it was, an ultrasound came back and we officially have a diagnoses... a distended bladder that was so stretched out ( your bladder is basically the size of a grapefruit) his bladder the size of Texas! With any type of of anything that is stretched out beyond the heavens problems now become a thing.

Ok, I'll put in grass growing terms, when you have an irrigation line that's clogged what happens? MASSIVE BLOW OUT! In my grass grower's senerio, his irrigation lake was backing up into his lines (utherers, it's a real thing connected to your kidneys, and no its not a cow utters) In true Patterdashian style, his were not clogged they basically looked like barbed wire, which led his kidneys to be put on salary so they were working 90 plus extra hours of overtime! You guys..THIS IS NOT NORMAL!!!! 

So what is the next step? Well you're just going to have to wait until I find it with in me to write it out.. I told you, this might just be 75k pages long ... 

Oh Snap, Someone Put Roundup in the Fertigation Tank!!

The drive over to his shop was only about 5 miles from my office, but it seriously felt like time stood still. Those 5 miles turned into 50. Of course I was in complete panic mode. Why when you're in a all hands on deck crisis, does the universe decide that EVERY CAR ON THE ROAD NEEDS TO DRIVE 10MPH UNDER THE SPEED LIMIT!!! Like GTFO of my way. My Grass Grower's pipes are leaking and his pump station is in "WARNING MODE". Move people!!!! 

When I FINALLY arrived to the shop, my grass grower was nowhere in sight. Would you believe this jerk, was actually still on some madmax looking driving device thing with wheels, trying to fix whatever broke on whatever hole ( if you know the course he was at,at the time, you will totally understand) instead of actually LISTENING TO ME OR A DOCTOR telling him to get his gluteus maximus (any of the three muscles in each buttock which move the thigh, the largest of which is the gluteus maximus.) to the ER IMMEDIATELY! 

I can't tell you what came over me! I actually had to call him to come back to the shop! Umm you're in Kidney Failure, you're body is shutting down, but hey let's go dig a freaking hole, because that's sooo much more important THAN YOUR LIFE!!! 

I've never been the turf wife to disrespect him infront of his crew ever. I always save that for when he comes home, 6 hrs later than first told, but the demon that came out of my mouth that day even surprised me. I basically jerked a knot in his Alabamian hard headed body, said alot of loud, very loud bad words. I even think at one point I threw a water bottle at him, just barley missing his face. I know im making myself sound like a complete physco, but if you are married to one of these "special men", you totally understand.   

After standing in the parking lot for about 15mins screaming at him to get in the car, my toddler fit was over, I got my way and off to the ER we went. Luckily for us, the Doc called ahead and told them we were coming. The drive over was weird. We both sat in complete silence, probably trying to process WTF was going on.

We walked into the door at the ER, get him checked in, triage, blood work, bla bla bla ,etc and After what seemed like an eternity, a man in a white jacket walked in with an entourage. I really thought he would tell us, that this was a huge mistake, the blood tests were wrong, and to get him dressed so he could go back to digging his hole or whatever he was doing. 

Boy was I sooo wrong. My grass grower was IN COMPLETE KIDNEY FAILURE, so much so that his organs where in the process of beginning to shut down. If you know my Grass Grower, this probably won't suprise you, he NEVER does anything half arsed. It's always a go big or go home type of ANYTHING! Why would I think a life altering medical apocaliptic event be any different????!!!!???

Then there it was, we're admiting him. "Umm... Excuse me " you're what???!!!?? I shake my head in disbelief. Meanwhile I look over at my beloved husband, who now all of the sudden looks so less than life, completely almost grey ( why am i know just noticing this!!!! )and in an instant my world began to crash. Even though I constantly troll him, I can't imagine my life without him. He truly is the Ying to my yang, my ride or die. We're not supposed to have to worry about this health crap for atleast 30 more years. The entire time, I'm trying to remain the strong , cool, have my sheet together wife, not to mention our daughter has no idea this is going on, no one does, and then I remember she's got an opening scrimmage game later than evening.. 

If you are keeping up with my pervious posts, you will understand that I'm digging VERY deep to relive this nightmare, so you'll just have to wait to hear/read more....🙃 

When Pylex is Sprayed with a Wand instead of a Sponge Application..

WARNING!!! THIS POST MIGHT BE 75,000 PAGES LONG! 

FEBRUARY 1, 2019, started as a normal Friday morning in the Patterdashian household. The grass grower was already out growing grass, or doing whatever it is that he does to receive the Benjamins..

The superbowl was being played that year in Atlanta and was just 2 days away. Against my better judgment,( I say that because we all know we are diehard packer fans and if my team aint playing I cant be bothered) I somehow scored tickets to a pregame something at Mercedes Benz Stadium. I mean we lived in Atl and this was really once in a lifetime score! 

I proceeded to get ready for work, It was FRIYAY and I made it through another week at a job that I absolutely hated, but thats beside the point. I hit the parking lot and all of the sudden my gut instinct was telling me, something was brewing. ( I'm weird like that..don't judge 😅) I stood and waited for the elevator to take me to my prison cell for my 8 hrs of confinement. I got to my floor, walked into my office and settled in. 

8:45 am my cell phone range and it was my grass grower, my stomach sank, because he NEVER calls me at work, a random text message? Absolutely! All day long infact, but a phone call??? Remember that feeling of "oh snap?" NEVER! I picked up and it went something like this...

GG( Grass Grower) -"Hey Babe" 

TW(Turf Widow) - Umm..Hi.. 

GG- OK so don't freak out ( why in the history of ALL the things do men ALWAYS start a really bad conversation with don't freak out!! I am always going to freak out when I hear that because why wouldn't I be in complete utter freak mode when you tell me not to????!!????)

TW- (Feeling the pit of hellfire in my stomach. Here we go, GG lost his job and we are now in complete survival mode, I'm already having a panic attack before I even actually had a panic attack) trying to remain cool and calm, OK..what happened? 

GG- Remember when I went to the doctor the other day? Well my blood work came back, really bad. 

TW- umm.. ok..? Let me guess, your levels are high because your a man and you might grow green things. But you don't eat green things ( veggies, fruits you know the healthy foods 😉) 

GG- I need to you be serious here. Not everything requires a smart ass one line zipper 

TW- (in my mind) Oh you Richard! How dare you!!! ..Ok I'll be an adult.. what do you mean? 

And there it was.. My heart stopped and instantly everything around me was spinning and in slow motion at the same time. 

GG- I'm in Kidney Failure. They want me to go to the ER immediately. But I feel fine. So I have a couple of things to do on the backhoe on number 9 ( see I freaking told you GRASS comes before EVERYTHING) and there's no way I'm missing that Superbowl experience. So I'll just go first thing Monday Morning. ( I swear to the heavens these are the exact words uttered from his mouth!!!!) 

TW- WHAT??? I'm leaving now, I'll meet you at the shop. YOU ARE GOING TO THE ER, even if I have to call the cops and make up some crazy story to get you there, this conversation is over. 

I hang up...

Right then and there I was having an out of body experience. How could my healthy 80 year old husband ( we all know he's not 80 , but sometimes he makes me think he is 😅)..ok he's like 50ish.. who works 100 hrs a week and still has time for all the fun things we do, currently, basically fighting for his life? How is this even possible? The blood work MUST be wrong.. there's no possible way in God's great big universe of unicorns with glitter farts that a simple needle stick in your arm and a vile of blood could potentially ruin my life! 

 

Alittle back story here, because obviously kidney failure just doesn't happen overnight and out of the blue.. My grass grower has had some issues over the years. But not alarming, just a random kidney stone here and there that he would go sit on a mower for an hour or two and rattle it out, as he would say. He was fine until he wasn't.... 

To be continued....🙃